Fresh Start
by Insane Anarchist-aka Allie
Summary: Alaria was given a second chance at life, a chance to make everything right. Rating subject to change.


**_Oh wow! What happened to my little oneshot? This thing kept going! It staunchly refused to end! Even now, it isn't over! So basically, I intended this to be a oneshot, but it had a mind of its own, and spawned a multi-chaptered fic. So there ya go. R&R!_**

**Disclaimer: **TMA doesn't own Transformers, but she does own Alaria and all OCs! The plotline is owned by her overactive imagination.

* * *

I started with nothing. Then I had it all taken away from me. Nothing to nothing, and yet I survived.

I didn't want to live; I didn't even want to see the light of day again. But it all kept coming. Each day was agonizingly, blindingly painful. I saw flashes of color, little places where my single memory surfaced from layers and layers of intense pain.

That memory has long since grown, but now I fear it. Every time it comes, more pain slips into me, and I force it back down. It has gotten to the point where I have blocked the memory itself from me, and I will never see it again.

One can only dream of such a thing. This will never happen, for it eternally torments me, coming out just when I feel a slight change in the constant pain: a moment, a millisecond of lessening. Then it's back, and the moment is destroyed.

I nurse my mental wounds on millisecond bursts of happiness, struggling with the hopelessness that engulfs my very existence. I know there is no way out, that has been secured, but all I have left to hold onto is those tiny moments where the weight of the entire universe if lifted off my shoulders.

I know with each passing day, I grow weaker and weaker, closer to my imminent demise. The thought brings me some comfort, in that I will one day leave behind this eternal pain, and break free. I can only hope I am not immortal. For that would be the greatest punishment that could ever be dealt: to live eternally with nothing.

The pain is easier to cope with as it goes on, and yet I feel a change in its flow: as it weakens, it strengthens.

I can feel myself becoming detached, leaving everything. I only can hope that wherever I am sent, I will be free of pain. Perhaps to somewhere I can live in peace, where I am free.

I know this will never happen. It is impossible to even think, and yet here I am, thinking this that I thought impossible to think.

All of my thoughts are here, and now, for I cannot be certain of any measurements of time, or if time even passes here, in this veritable abyss. All I have ever known is pain. Perhaps I could discern some measurement, but what would it be worth? Knowing how long I suffer?

I do not need a measurement of time to add to my eternity. It would only serve to strengthen my suffering, and I do not wish to do that.

Here, a change is pulling me, and I will follow. I have no fear: no pain could be as strong as the one that currently attacks me. No pain indeed.

My eyes shot open. Colors and shapes moved before me. A bright light assaulted me, but I ignored it.

The pain was gone.

A figure whom I knew instinctively bore the color yellow-green came towards me. I was instantly afraid, afraid that the pain would come back if he-I knew the being to be a he-came too close. I retreated back, encountering a resistance. _Wall_, my subconscious told me.

He said something to me. I tried to hear, and found I could. He was saying, "Are you alright? Can you hear me?" His voice was annoyingly loud, and so I snarled quietly at him.

He seemed momentarily surprised, then _chuckled_.

"Well, she finally does something. I'm surprised you chose me, over anyone else." He picked something up, and I pressed back to the wall again, fearful. "Don't make it come back!" I heard myself yell. My voice: I'd never heard it before. It was smooth, and vibrant, despite never having been used. I could hear different undertones in it too, allowing me to show more emotion.

"And she talks. I was hoping we didn't have another nearly irreparable vocal transmitter." He looked curiously at me, then said in a much softer tone, "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. Just let me fix one last little bolt, and you'll be free."

I nodded hesitantly, and he immediately picked up the tool, and fiddled with something on the side of my head. I reeled, coming in contact with the wall again.

"There: all done." He smiled, and said, "I'm Ratchet, the Autobot's Chief Medical Officer, or CMO." He moved to put the tool back, and I saw him putting a box away, and moving several of what I assumed to be medical tools to their respective places.

"My name is Alaria," I said. I was confused: I hadn't known my name until I said it. _Alaria_, I tried in my head. It sounded good, and I liked the way it gave off power.

"Hmmm…why don't I know you?" Ratchet asked, cocking his head to the side.

I gave him a look of skepticism. "Should you know me?" I asked, feeling rather ill-disposed towards his overly inquisitive nature.

"Possibly, but it doesn't matter. Should I show you around?" He turned instantly obliging, catching the tone in my voice.

I regarded him carefully. "No thank you, I will not intrude anymore." I stalked out, instinctively heading left. The corridors were obviously metal, and shiny: I had the sudden urge to see what I looked like.

I turned to the side, and regarded my reflection critically. I was a blue-green color, with very feminine curves. My face, as far as I could tell, was beautiful, and radiated a calm and regal expression. I cautiously lifted a hand, and inspected it. I had long, slender fingers with a shimmery blue at the end of each. The blue caught the light beautifully, and reflected the exact color of my optics.

My optics were amazing enough in themselves. They shone brightly, and gave off a soft blue glow, creating an aura of mystique around me. They beautifully showed the Emerald green markings on my cheeks. They curled and uncurled, creating twisting patterns all around my neck.

I knew without a doubt I was different.

I forced this thought out of my head, and fought against the memory of the pain I'd endured. I pushed both down into the recesses of my consciousness, and ignored them.

I continued long the hallways, knowing full-well that if I hadn't been there, they wouldn't have been quite as sparkly. The shine somewhat was diminished as I entered a room.

The room had multiple tables, and a long one in the back, connected to the wall. My subconscious designated this as a _bar_. A few of what I instinctively knew to the mechs were sitting peacefully at a few of the tables, chatting amiably. One mech was at the bar, looking very out-of-place. They all quieted and looked up when I entered.

I smiled shyly, and clasped my hand together in front of me. I turned away, feeling an odd warmth spread to my cheeks. A mech smiled at me, and said, "Hey, looks like you escaped the Medic of Doom ok!" He started laughing, and another mech elbowed him sharply.

"Actually, I believe I quite sufficiently flabbergasted Ratchet. He was more than a little flustered when I left," I replied.

The red one who had spoken to me, and the golden yellow one beside him, gave me shocked looks. "You _flustered_ the Hatchet?" They cried, exchanging looks.

I looked at them smugly, feeling the warmth leave my cheeks. "I did not find it overly challenging." My aura seemed to grow, and a held my head high.

"So, where're you from?" a black-and-white mech asked. He was sitting at a table with a grey-and-red mech. The one who had spoken had a visor, and I could see a slight glow emanating from under it; I realized his optics were under there.

"I…I don't really know," I conceded. My keen optics picked up up the slight uncomfortable movements of the mechs at my announcement.

"Ah well, that's ok. You can stay with us! Th' name's Jazz," he said brightly. I immediately knew I had found a friend in him. He gestured for me to come sit down, and I happily agreed. I sat down beside him, and he proceeded to introduce me to the mechs in the room: "This is Bluestreak," he said, motioning to the grey-and-red one beside him, "Sideswipe and Sunstreaker," the red and yellow mechs waved in turn, "And last but not least Bumblebee." He nodded to the bot at the bar, who nodded sheepishly, and backed out of the room through another door.

I stood up, feeling terrible that the little mech was frightened by me. My mind had subconsciously felt his feeling, and therefore I knew why he had left. I followed him out of the room, ignoring the other mechs trying to verbally get me back.

I found him outside, and called softly, "Bumblebee?" I saw him flinch, and whirl around. His optics were trained on me, and he looked terribly distraught.

"Bumblebee, what's wrong?" I knew to hide that I knew what was wrong. I stepped closer, and put on a gentle face. I found I could control the aura of light my optics gave off, and so I made it gentler, and far less noticeable. He seemed to relax a little, and allowed me to come closer. I could tell from here that I was taller than him, something I hadn't noticed before. He had been quite a bit shorter than the other mechs, and I realized I hadn't noticed anything about heights.

"I…it's just…" Energon tears welled up in his eyes, and a memory fought to surface. I immediately recognized the cold feeling in my abdomen I got when it came up: it was the one I had when I was trapped in the abyss, the one that always brought on such pain. But now, it wasn't bringing pain; only a feeling that my spark was being ripped in two.

With a sudden burst of energy, it broke free. I let it play in my head, and suddenly I recognized him. "Bumblebee!" I cried, and he jumped back. The tears were still there, and now they flowed out.

"Oh no, no no no, 'Bee…I recognize you…you're my…" I trailed off, and he looked at me. His optics were hopeful, but I could see a hidden pain.

"You couldn't…it's just my imagination," he said, and I could practically see his mind working to make him believe that I wasn't actually there.

I stepped forward, and gathered him into my arms. "I'm really here," I said softly. He buried his face against my neck, and whispered, "Really? You…you really came?" His voice was soft, and it broke with emotion.

All my lost memories flooded back, and I tipped his head up to look at me. "Yes, I am," I told him gently. "I'm really here, and I'm not leaving again." I hugged him close, and he clung to me as though I would fade away.

I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and together we walked back inside. We were immediately assaulted by the twins, who were asking questions, and all of them seemed directed at poor Bumblebee. He seemed to not notice the two; he was in a daze, of sorts.

I batted them away, and said, "I would thank you not to do that." My voice was sharp, and they recoiled. I sighed, and looked them over. "Where is Optimus Prime?" I asked, not directing the question to anyone in particular.

It was Jazz who recovered, and said, "He-he was away for a few days, but he'll be back in a little…" He seemed to make a connection between myself and Bumblebee, and continued, "Ironhide received a transmission from him about an hour ago." He looked at Bluestreak, who nodded. I could see the recognition in his optics.

I nodded, and smiled. Then I turned to the twins, and said, "I'm surprised you haven't made the connection. I know you're prone to pranks, but you are not without intelligence." I smirked, and gave Bumblebee a reassuring one-armed hug.

Met with their confused looks, I said, "Alright, I'll just tell you. I'm Bumblebee's mother." I gave them both calm looks, and forced back a laugh as they promptly gasped. 'Bee was laughing, and the sound alone made me happy. I hadn't heard my son's laugh in Primus knows how long.

Bumblebee seemed content to stay here, and I said gently in his vocal receptor, "Let me go find your dad, and I'll be back, hon." I hugged him again, even though he gave me confused optics. I knew I'd never told him who his dad was, and I immediately regretted it. But I had no time for that, as a gentle tug at my spark let me know exactly where my spark-mate was.

I swiftly left the room, flashing Blue and Jazz a wink. I stopped briefly by the medbay, then slipped inside.

Ratchet looked up from his desk, and said, "Did you get lost, Alaria?" His voice was layered with humor.

"No, Ratchet, I actually reacquainted myself with my son," I told him. My aura was back, and glowed visibly even in the bright medbay lights. I hid a smile at his confused look. He spluttered, "Y-your _son_?" But I thought…" Suddenly, I could see it click in his mind. "Alaria…Primus! Alaria!" he cried, and stood up sharply.

"Nice to see you too, Ratch'," I chuckled, and he shook his head. "I…how did I not see it?" He too seemed dazed. I smiled, and gave him a hug. I'd been the only one who he'd allowed to hug him.

"Where were you this whole time? It really tore…him…up when you left," he said. I caught the way he used the word 'him.'

"I honestly don't know. But I have to run, alright? I won't be leaving anytime soon, though." I waved, and left. The hallways were familiar, and I knew where I was going. The doors outside were directly ahead of me, and I felt my spark jump, and rightly so.

I slipped outside, arriving just in time to see a large red-and-blue-flamed Peterbilt truck pull up. Upon seeing me, it quickly transformed. I stood there, allowing my aura to go full-blast. I watched as he pulled his large weapon off his back, and point it at me.

I held up my hands, and in a carefully guarded tone said, "I'm an Autobot."

The barrel lowered slightly.

"Optimus, I…" I tried to begin talking, but words wouldn't form. There weren't words to describe what I felt. I stepped closer, and watched, almost horrified, as he stepped back.

"Alaria?" he asked. I suddenly felt dizzy, and he almost seemed to sense it. He came to me, and pulled me close, into his arms. I rested my cheek on his chest, and sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. He gently cupped my face with one hand, and lifted my head so I was looking at him. Without saying a word, he wrapped his other arm around me, and pressed his lips to mine. I twined my arms around his neck.

Optimus drew back after a moment, and said, "You do not need to be sorry for leaving." He kissed me again, and I almost forgot what I needed to tell him.

"Optimus," I began, "I left…I left because I didn't want…didn't want…" My entire frame shook, and Energon tears fell thick and fast from my optics. My spark-mate pulled me closer, and I took strength from him. "The war…we both knew how dangerous it was; even _now_ it is still dangerous… Optimus, I left because I wanted to protect our child."

Optimus stiffened momentarily, and then I felt a great relief course through him. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and waited until the tears subsided to look at him again.

"And the child, did…" He left the sentence unfinished.

I reached out, and gently stroked his cheek with my hand. "Yes, he lived. He is…here at the base." I smiled gently, watching the shock play across his face, only to be replaced by happiness. I whispered, "Bumblebee," in the softest voice I could manage. I looked up at his face, and nodded when he said, "Bumblebee? He is our son?" Optimus pulled me in close, and I could feel a change in him, as though a great boundary had been broken.

"Yes," I whispered. I drew back, and said, "But…he doesn't know. I never…I never told him." I felt the deep regret I'd felt back in the rec room, and continued, "We should go tell him…"

Optimus kissed me again, softly, and said, "And the Autobots deserve to know about us, as well."

I smirked, and said, "Of course, we left it a secret." I regained my composure, and stood up. My aura was gleaming brightly, and I knew I radiated happiness.

We walked back to the rec room, and I let go of his hand just before entering, to keep our secret for a little longer. I knew Optimus was secretly watching from outside, but that didn't bother me. I surveyed the room, and saw Bumblebee sitting at the table with Jazz and Bluestreak. The three were chatting, and there was no sign of the twins, which I was glad for. I smiled gently, and walked over. I sat down at the table, and hooked a gentle arm around 'Bee's shoulders.

"Heya, Alaria!" Jazz said brightly. I knew he was pleased to see me again, but I couldn't help but wonder how long I had been away. How many years of suffering had Optimus endured? I asked, and the normally happy-go-lucky bot turned very hesitant, and nervous.

"Eh, well…nobody measured. But…long enough, Alaria. Long enough." The sadness in his voice was enough to give me a good approximation. My shoulders slumped, and I rested my head in my hands. 'Bee hugged me, but I didn't have the heart to do anything.

Optimus chose that moment to walk in, and I thanked Primus. He strode over, and I could picture the look of concern on his faceplate. I felt his arm snake around me, and pull me in close. There was a change in the atmosphere, and I remembered we hadn't told anyone.

I raised my head, and had Bumblebee come outside with me. We sat down together, and looked up at the stars. "'Bee, what happened, you don't need to worry…"

"He's my dad, isn't he?" Bumblebee asked. I nodded, and put my arm around his shoulders. "Yes." I paused, and then said, "You have every right to be mad, hon. I should have told you, but I never did. But that was because _he_ didn't know. I didn't want you to go through the experience of telling your father you're his son. I hoped it would be easier this way."

He sighed, and I caught the strain on his vocal transmitters. "You vocal transmitters-something happened, didn't it?"

Bumblebee nodded, and then proceeded to tell me everything I missed. The battle in Mission City was hard to hear, and I refrained from asking how Jazz was back now, or going on about his legs. I snuck a glance, but they looked fully repaired. He also told me about his charges, Sam Witwicky and Mikaela Banes. I could hear how proud he was to be one of the only Autobots with human charges, and I smiled encouragingly.

We both turned sharply at a footstep behind us. I yanked out my long Energon daggers, but swiftly put them away when I recognized Optimus. He gave me a slight nod, and I slipped back inside; he wanted to talk to his son.

I said my goodnights, made promises not to disappear in the night like before, and left the rec room. Optimus's quarters were right where I knew they would be, and I instinctively knew they were his. I felt a great weariness take hold, and I lay down heavily on the berth. My optics shut, and my systems eagerly went into stasis.


End file.
